When Good Men Go

In the Wake of Our Brother, Malcolm Jamal Warner

The entire black community, old and young, is grieving the untimely passing of one of our most beloved television figures, husband, father and actor/poet Malcolm Jamal Warner. Malcolm Jamal Warner, while on vacation with his family in Costa Rica, drowned in the dangerous tides, while managing to save his 8 year old daughter. Surfers allegedly pulled his daughter to safety, and CPR was performed on Malcolm for 45 minutes in an unsuccessful attempt to rescue him. My deepest and utmost regards are extended to his family who now have the grievous task of transporting him home and making funeral arrangements. There is no comparison to the sorrow they must feel, however as a viewer who grew up watching The Cosby Show, I must admit that I am grieving as well. I grieve for the life of the man, I also grieve for the what seems to be the death of role models like Malcolm in our society.

As society has made a trend of exposing the indecencies and scandals of men with fame and fortune, the stature and value of male role models has dwindled in our culture. While one generation has endured the traumatic assassinations of iconic civil rights figures, I don’t think we have fully understood how the character assassinations of our heroes have impacted us today. What happens when good men go?

The parasocial relationship that viewers have with actors, singers and performers create an unspoken wish. We bond so deeply with the performer that we wish for some semblance of it to be real. It is to our greatest pleasure when we discover that the performance on screen has come from a worthy vessel who carries similar traits and ideals in their own lives. Therefore, we find ourselves admiring them, gravitating to their works, and feeling like they are a part of our lives.

Like most people, my introduction to Malcolm was through his breakout role as Theodore Huxtable on The Cosby Show. For some the Cosby Show was a fantasy, but for me the show reflected the middle class dynamics of a black home much like my own. I saw my brother and myself in Theo who otherwise was surrounded by a household of women and girls. It was a show that members of my family, from my grandmother to my baby sister, could watch and enjoy. I am grieving the loss of the heroes and example setters we once had. It seems like in days like these there are few public figures (particularly in film and television) whose legacy is not riddled with scandal or indecency. Malcolm Jamal Warner was one of those few artists who through their works have achieved a cultural immortality. The void left in the wake of his passing can only awaken the next generation of voices who can walk with class and dignity.

If you’ve lived your life well, upon the day of your passing the world will be in deep sorrow. There won’t seem to be any relief or redeeming news. Your absence will leave the world groaning. That is what happens when good men go.

Rest In Peace to our brother,
Malcolm Jamal Warner